


Commitment

by kazarina



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: During Summer Palace, M/M, Post-Kings Rising
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 08:23:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21267995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kazarina/pseuds/kazarina
Summary: “Our past,” Laurent said, “is not easy.”





	Commitment

“Our past,” Laurent said, “is not easy.” 

The words broke the stillness of the night like a single ripple disturbing an expanse of water. Only a glimmer of moonlight illuminated Laurent’s face, a careful expression that gave away nothing. Damen knew better. It was exactly the neutral expression that told him of the multitudes of tension, present for the first time since he arrived at the summer palace. They had had a week of time to themselves, pure happiness that Damen could never have imagined before, sweet tender moments interspersed with Laurent’s charming needling talk. Damen was conscious of the dizzy haze that tossed his spirits in the air, into a bright sunshine that blinded him to all but Laurent. He fell in love with Laurent for the second time, never getting tired of seeing Laurent carefree and peaceful, perhaps a glimpse of the man he had been before Marlas. Each new sweet aspect of Laurent revealed was preciously collected and hoarded in Damen’s mind, each rare smile committed to memory.

Now, as they lay beside each other, stretched out in the warmth of the night, desires sated, unpredictable Laurent had chosen this time to bring up their past. He fought back an urge to reach out to Laurent, not knowing if it would be appreciated at this moment. The past wasn’t something you could just wash away in the ocean or bury it deep in the ground. It certainly wasn't a wound to kiss away.

“Yes.” Damen said, carefully, and waited.

Wishing a thing wasn’t didn’t make it so. Though faded now, Damen couldn’t forget the pain of the lashes or the indignities he had been put through. But all those didn’t compare with the sour feeling in his mouth when he thought of _his_ past. All the things he had thought he was sure of, who he was and what he was meant to do, had broken into sharp irreparable fragments. It hurt to try to pick up the pieces. Life had once been simple. He didn’t know how, or when the ground had slipped out beneath him. _Father, I can beat him_. And he had ridden back home to a victor’s welcome. Success. Winning. His father’s pride. Those things seemed important then. He wanted to put these memories out his mind but found instead that they stubbornly planted themselves firm.

Damen sat up and ran his hands through his hair. It felt like a long time ago that he hated Laurent. Fear of one kind had turned into another kind. He remembered walking into Ios, into the palace’s great hall, with a crushing pressure in his chest that he only realised was present when it had been lifted - that moment he searched in the halls for a tuff of bright blond and found it. The relief that washed through him almost brought him to his knees.

“I thought you were dead.” The words just came out. “That I was too late. That I failed you and left you to face your uncle alone. It would be...” Damen said. He couldn’t continue. He wasn’t making sense, that wasn’t what they were talking about. He remembered the haze of wanting to fight and kill everything in his path to get to Laurent. Damianos against Kastor’s entire army - foolish but he had been ready to do it. After a few moments of silence, Laurent reached out a hand and traced a path along Damen’s back, the edge of the scars. He stared at them now. 

“No. I will not let you bear it alone.” Damen turned fierce eyes on to Laurent. At least he is alive. There is meant to be a difference between intentional and unintentional actions, but Damen couldn’t think and wasn’t sure anymore. He wanted to shake Laurent and will him back to the man who kissed him so sweetly and seriously, wanted to look in his eyes and see the surprised wonder at simple pleasures, pleasures he had never known because he had grown up fighting battles all alone. But Laurent didn’t seem to hear him or didn’t respond, lost in his own contemplation, his face a mix of melancholy and something like puzzlement. And then the moment seemed to pass, whatever had crested in Laurent had ebbed, or Laurent himself had chosen to shutter it away. 

“Come lie down,” Laurent offered. “I hope I have not ruined the mood.”

There was something else in his eyes now, just a hint of a teasing light. Damen felt warmth pool in him, and was doubly pleased when he saw a hint of an answering smile in Laurent. He cupped his hand against Laurent’s jaw, leaned down and kissed him. Slow, tender kisses at first, then Damen nipping his bottom lip gently. Laurent had one hand on Damen’s neck, holding him there or pulling him down. Damen’s lips brushed his cheek as Laurent turned his face to one side, the side where Damen held his jaw, and kissed the fingers there. A pleased noise escaped from Damen. Then they were kissing again, more insistently now, as Damen trailed his hand down Laurent’s neck and then shoulder. He liked the feel of Laurent’s smile against his lips, and he closed his eyes, luxuriating in the sensation for a moment. When they pulled apart, and stared into each other’s eyes, breathing quickened from before, Damen only knew an aching moment where he held everything he ever wanted, and he wanted to stay this way forever. He knew he didn’t have Laurent’s gift for words. He could put his thoughts into simple words, and that was all. 

“I want many more nights like this.” Damen said. “I want to rule our kingdoms together… like you said.” And because Damen had that effortless conviction that compels men to follow him, a man born to be king, his intensity drew Laurent’s quiet gaze. “We will set an example for our people, show them that Akeilos and Vere can be one. We will bring peace in our lands. Who better than us?”

Laurent held his gaze, and then after a pause, “I want that too.” 

The shimmer of hope in Laurent’s eyes flared something in Damen, the bittersweet realisation that Laurent, even now, even after all they had been through, was almost not letting himself have this, this thing between them. Laurent gave away things, he gave himself up for Damen’s life, and now he gave Damen choices, exits. There was a wonder at what he could give Laurent. Surety, steadfastness, reassurance.

“Our present is a gift.” Damen said. “You,“ - he paused - “are a gift.” He was rewarded with a very real smile from Laurent, etched between faint touches of relief. 

Laurent might speak in twists and turns, his intentions layered and hidden, but his trueness came from his actions. Laurent lied to his uncle and protected him. Laurent came to him in Ravenel, the day before he meant to be leaving, and gave him something he had wanted for so long – himself. Laurent put himself in front of Damen’s sword and kept him from killing Makedon. And then afterwards, instead of making bitchy remarks about Damen’s mistake, he had come to fight with Damen, releasing his anger, with an injured shoulder, and probably planning to participate in the Okton the next day. He knew now that none of the blows he exchanged with Laurent then were killing ones. Even the knife that Laurent had thrown at him had been short of killing speed. Or his shoulder was that much injured. When Damen thought about it, his actions could barely be considered noble. He often acted rashly instead, had turned up in Ios with no plan to free Laurent. In another turn of events, they would both be dead. 

And then suddenly, Damen felt overwhelmed by a desire to be close to Laurent, bodies pressed together as if nothing could come between them. He remembered Laurent’s awkward embrace in Karthas, giving him tender personal comfort, and it occurred to him now that Laurent’s actions then may reflect his preferences. 

“I want to hold you.” Damen said, not sure at all if it was the right thing to do, or whether he should be asking. “Can I?” He searched Laurent’s face for a sign, one way or another. It was some time before Laurent lifted his gaze and met Damen’s, searching Damen’s face in return. Hesitancy resolved into steadiness, and Laurent breathed a single word - yes - like a sigh. 

They both shifted, though mostly it was Damen settling himself back on the bed, and moving so that he could tuck his arm under Laurent, and drape his other arm across his chest. Laurent was half lying on his side, and half turned towards Damen. Thigh pressed against thigh as Damen buried his face in the side of Laurent’s neck, inhaling the sweet scent of his hair. His chest was wonderfully warm against Laurent’s bare back. Damen had thought he was giving comfort to Laurent, but only now did he realise it was the other way round. Words that didn’t quite take shape crowded in his chest. He needed something, he wanted to say it, or ask it, but he wasn't quite sure what he wanted. He wanted Laurent to be his, but Laurent didn't belong to anyone. He wanted to belong to Laurent, but he was not a slave. Damen couldn’t put together anything coherent. It was Laurent who turned all the way now, facing Damen, as if hearing his unspoken words and knowing him better than he knew himself. He closed his eyes, pressed his forehead to Damen’s, and every bit the prince, he said, “You know, I think this time I’m not letting you go.”

**Author's Note:**

> So when Damen said “I'd work my whole life to be worthy of him.” in The Adventures of Charls, I've always wondered how he had come to think that way. After all he's done heaps for Laurent and is very worthy of him. 
> 
> First fic ever on AO3, hope it's okay!!


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